


Through Your Teeth

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Undertale (Video Game), underswap
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Although he doesn't realize it, Ambiguous/Open Ending, And that only makes Undyne unhappy, Angst, Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Arguing, Bittersweet, Brotherly Angst, Confessions, Crying, Deception, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Family Drama, Fear, Feels, First Meetings, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Lies, Mistakes, Misunderstandings, Nervousness, Oblivious Papyrus (Undertale), Pap thinks he doesn't deserve to be happy, Papyrus (Undertale) Has Issues, Papyrus (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Rejection, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Shame, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Underswap Papyrus Being a Jerk (Undertale), Unresolved Emotional Tension, Worry, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28927755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: In this world, all of the lies your soulmate tells are tattooed onto your skin. They're not meant to serve as any judgment or be the base for any assumptions, but Undyne is covered in them.
Relationships: Alphys & Sans (Undertale), Alphys & Undyne (Undertale), Grillby/Muffet (Undertale) (mentioned), Papyrus & Sans (Undertale), Papyrus/Undyne (Undertale)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No hate to the canon ships! I just like Undyrus in the Swap AU <3

Undyne worries for her soulmate every day. Over time it’s become a hindrance to her work, her attention drawn to the stinging, slithering itch across her body. She’s learned to smother it as best she can under the rough, starchy sleeves of her lab coat and oversized slacks, but in the late hours of the night when she lies awake, she can’t help but sneak anxious peeks at them.

She understands the science of these markings as well as any other doctor. They only surface when one’s soulmate tells a lie.

Some monsters are lucky. Their bodies are bare of all but a few faded, childish fibs, phrases such as “ _He started it!_ ” or “ _It wasn’t me!_ ” Those were lies that could be laughed about while reminiscing over brunch.

Undyne, however…Undyne is _covered_ in them. They’re not meant to serve as any judgment; they’re not meant to be taken at face value, but what other choice does she have when she and her One haven’t crossed paths yet? All she has is the evidence in front of her.

She’s choked out more than a few half-truths in her time, shameful, always burning in the back of her mind as she waits for the truth to come out, so she is in no position to judge. Perhaps her soulmate’s penchant for deception would bother her more if they were lying to her face, but she can address that problem when they come to it—if they ever do. For now their poor habit doesn’t worry her nearly as much as the content of the lies themselves.

 _It’s all good_.

 _I’ll be okay_.

 _I can manage_.

 _It’s not that bad_.

 _I get it_.

 _Mad? Heh. I got no reason to be_.

 _Never mind, it wasn’t important_.

If they’re in a position to come up with these falsehoods, they must have someone caring about them to ask. On the other hand, if every one of these lies has been accepted as truth, clearly they aren’t worried enough.

Undyne can’t help but feel nauseous as she traces the letters freshly stitched into her scales. With every new entry, it feels like she is playing nothing but a minor role in a television drama—watching everything collapse around her dear one, helpless. She can’t pause, can’t rewind, she can’t even reach out to hold and comfort them. She can only keep receipts of their pain.

 _Nah, I’m not hungry_.

 _Just a little tired_.

 _Just a bad dream_.

 _I’ve had worse_.

_You worry too much._

_It doesn’t even hurt_.

 _I’m fine_.

 _I promise_.

What kind of life are they living, Undyne wonders, that they feel they have to say such things? She scratches at the words restlessly, miserably, wishing she could smear them away…wishing she was there to intervene somehow, to fix it.

But when has she ever made anything better for anyone? Her soulmate clearly has their own problems, their own burdens to carry. Why should she be there to heap hers onto the pile? Perhaps it’s just a vain hope that they would be stronger together.

All she has is that hope.

* * *

She runs into a stranger on her way back from a meeting the next day. She feels too exposed out here; she’s anxious to retreat to the safety of her lab, where she won’t stumble across any monsters who want to make conversation. Plowing headfirst into one is worse; her papers go flying and the other monster lets out a yelp on contact with the ground, followed by a gag as he almost chokes on his cigarette.

“Oh, my stars, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Undyne pleads as she drops down, one hand pawing for her papers and the other at his jacket. “It’s all my fault! Oh, no, y-you fell pretty hard…Do you need help? I’m—I’m a doctor! I can, uh—”

“Nngh…don’t bother,” he grinds out with difficulty, not quite meeting her eyes. The grin that he carves out of his initial grimace doesn’t meet _his_ eyes either. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

In defeat and embarrassment Undyne leans back on her knees, her mouth too dry to protest. Her hands have gone weak, too weak to cling to her papers, and unbidden tears gather in her eyes as she stares at his retreating back.

Her scales sting.


	2. Chapter 2

Papyrus isn’t sure he ever wants to meet his soulmate.

By all rights it should be something beautiful, two halves united for the first time. He’s always wondered how that completion might feel, but he knows better than to hope that it would be all sunshine and rainbows. He’s never seen either of those before.

If he ever spots his soulmate, their body will be nothing but a tally of his sins glaring back at him. He’ll be face to face with a mirror of his darkness, plastered onto someone who doesn’t deserve it. 

He isn’t sure how he came to be so good at lying to himself and to others; he doesn’t like to think on it. Liars are high on the list of things he despises, which inevitably means he is his own archenemy.

“ _I hate myself_ ,” he wants to say. Instead he tilts his head and remarks, only condemning himself further, “I’m alright. How are you?”

Blue and Muffet, like the well-intentioned family they are, rib him often about his soulmate-to-be.

“When do you bring the lucky monster for my appraisal?” Muffet demands, cupping his face. “I’ll see only the best of bidders for my handsome bone hatchlings. Huhuhu, I know a proper mate at spitting distance—and if they are right for you, there’ll be no _need_ for spitting!”

“ _I’m not right for anyone_ ,” he wants to say. Instead he grins and shoots back, “So what was your mum’s assessment of Grillby for you? Was he a… _spitfire?_ ”

She flushes, sputters and scoldingly smacks his jaw every time.

Whenever Blue cajoles him to stop smoking, wash his face, find fresh clothes, he eventually pulls the same card: “What if you meet your One today? Wouldn’t you like them to see you at your very best?”

“ _Who could want me after the marks I’ve given them?_ ” he wants to ask. Instead he shrugs, waves a dismissive hand. “If it happens, they’ll see me as I am.”

He can never bring his soulmate home to meet them. If Blue and Muffet saw his soulmate’s markings, all of the bull he’s spouted over the years, they would be mortified and angry. Worse, they would be ashamed of _themselves_ for being duped by his cheap, fixed smile all this time, and that’s the last thing he wants.

It’s not their fault. They want to believe the best about him. They want to believe him when he tells them that he’s doing better than yesterday, that he feels comfortable, that he slept well. By admitting otherwise, he would let them down. Happy ignorance of his pain is better for them.

He pities the poor soul forced to bear his shame and guilt and secrets. How is it fair that some monster out there, who doesn’t know his name or his face or his voice, knows him better than his closest family? His soulmate knows the _worst_ of him and they come to know it better every day. There’s only worse and worse of him to know.

He can only hope they’ve found something handy to cover the evidence, as he has. He’s in no way a snitch; his jacket keeps their falsehoods securely tucked away. He’s done his best to convince himself that he’s not interested in his soulmate’s business, but on the rare occasion that he does follow Blue’s advice and changes his shirt, he’ll glance at the lines marking his shoulders and ribs. His soulmate’s lies are…curious.

 _I can do it_.

 _It shouldn’t be too hard_.

 _It’s almost ready_.

 _I just need a little more time_.

 _I had no idea this could happen_.

_It’s not my fault!_

_I've done everything I can!_

_I’m going to do it. I’m going to tell them everything_.

Whatever “everything” is, whatever burden his soulmate wants to get off their chest, he can only hope it plays out better for them than it would for him.

* * *

His smoke break the next day comes quite literally crashing down as a frazzled fish monster plows right into him. A waste of his good cigarette and of her filing; he hits the ground among a sea of her displaced papers.

“Oh, my stars, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault! Oh, no, y-you fell pretty hard…Do you need help? I’m—I’m a doctor! I can, uh—”

“Don’t bother,” he groans, hoping his following smile seems genuine through the pain. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

She doesn’t seem comforted, shrinking back in despair at those words. Her hands lock up and then tremble.

Shouldn’t he ask if she’s alright too? Help her gather her things? He isn’t sure why, but he has a feeling that venturing either would make her feel worse.

He brushes himself down and rises, hoping he can just walk off the new stitch throbbing in his ribs.

The further he retreats from her, the worse the ache becomes.


	3. Chapter 3

Sprawled face down across her bed, Undyne buries her head against her arm to muffle a scream. It doesn’t even surface, dwindling to nothing but a panicked, squeaky pseudo-choking noise that leads her into ragged gasps for breath.

 _It can’t be. It just—I couldn’t have_ —

Her whole life, she’s concocted such fantasies about the day she would meet her soulmate. She’s always been certain that she would know right away, that recognition would dawn on both of their faces in an instant—love at first sight. They would sweep her off her feet, overjoyed to see her, and she would probably swoon in their embrace. _Happily ever beginning_.

She was only half right about that scenario; she had swept him— _him!_ —off his feet and let him fall painfully to the floor.

Hindsight is 20-20. How had she not connected the burning of her arm to his words to her then and there? Had she seen it as some convoluted coincidence? _Stupid, stupid!_ In her stress over the unforeseen embarrassment, she had ignored it, pushed it aside to focus on gathering her paperwork. She had wiped away the inexplicable tears that surfaced, imagining it to be from the odor of the stranger’s cigarette or the steam of the vents.

The tears are making their return now, blurring her vision as she stares helplessly at the fresh mark. It aches as she squeezes her arm, bunching the skin and scales to make the scrawl clearer.

 _It’s no big deal. I’m fine_.

She missed him. That was their moment and in her idiocy she _missed_ him! Moreover, he had missed her. She can’t help the small sting of hurt at the thought; there was no magical realization, no puzzle pieces fitting into place. She was nothing but an inconvenient interruption to his day.

It’s unrealistic to expect that of him. While she tried to help him up, she had told no lie, so he couldn’t have felt any change…but he had lied to her. Had there been any subconscious indication on her face?

He lied to her. Her soul becomes a lump in her throat. She is the _cause_ of this mark; in her frantic blustering, she made him feel that another lie was necessary.

He told her that he was fine. Had the fall injured him more seriously than he let on or was he simply in a bad mood? Undyne hates both options. Why, _why_ didn’t she listen to her instinct and call out after him, catch up and insist on helping? What a wasted opportunity.

Her mind is a raging dumpster fire of guilt, humiliation and uncertainty swirled around one definitive question: _Now what?_ She’s met her soulmate. She has a face to put to the term—a drawn, pale face with dim eye sockets that barely gave her a glance. He’s the last thing she has imagined her soulmate to be; if she is honest, someone like him hasn’t even made the list. Skeleton monsters are so rare that the species hasn’t entered her daydreams.

Perhaps his rarity means he will be easier to find. Someone has to know where he comes from. Maybe someone will have his number so she can…What? _Call_ him? Shoot him a text? Her palms grow clammy at the thought. How can she even begin? “Hey, this is Undyne, the fish monster who ran you over. As it turns out, I’m also your soulmate.”

Would he even want to see her again after their unfortunate encounter? He might not even want to be associated with a clumsy, anxious loser.

Nevertheless…the soul marks themselves may be lies, but they don’t deceive in their _function_. From birth, something in her soul has insisted that it is meant for his.

Her mind drifts back to that forced, crooked smile he wore. If she has to guess, he’s gotten a lot of practice at it. What would a real smile look like on him? Would it soften some of the shadows under his eyes?

 _It’s no big deal. I’m fine_.

With her knowledge of her soulmate’s state of mind day in and day out, she can’t let this pass. _His_ lie on _her_ conscience is unfamiliar and uncomfortable and, timid though she may be about facing consequences, she won’t brush aside the fact that the fall might have genuinely hurt him. His baggy clothes can probably hide a lot and if there’s anything she knows for certain, it’s his knack for downplaying pain.

She’s hurt too many people already; she doesn’t want her soulmate to be one of them. There must be something she can do to make this better, if she can find him.

* * *

**Undyne**

[4:45 p.m.] Hey, Al? u busy?

**Alphys**

[4:46 p.m.] Nah, just chilling! What’s up nerd!!

**Undyne**

[4:48 p.m.] nm, just need to ask u something. Ok so this will probably sound rlly weird and random but u know pretty much everyone in the Underground sooo…

**Alphys**

[4:50 p.m.] So???

**Undyne**

[4:51 p.m.] Um.

[4:52 p.m.] Idk askjfks do u know any skeleton monsters? ^^;

**Alphys**

[4:53 p.m.] PFFFF BRO DO I EVER!!


	4. Chapter 4

Papyrus doesn’t feel right. He rarely ever does but this afternoon his general malaise is worse than usual. His ribs have been aching ever since he left that surprise crash landing.

With his “condition,” he wouldn’t be surprised if the impact cracked something. It might explain his breathlessness and the erratic skipping and sinking of his soul but he hasn’t bothered to check yet. He’s not exactly one to start rooting around under his hoodie in public. That would just be indecent. Furthermore, the pain keeps him alert. Blue will be exasperated if he catches Papyrus falling asleep on the job again; this will ensure he can’t.

Clear as his mind may be, sharpened by the pang of discomfort with each step, it comes with a foreign sense of agitated emptiness. He wanders, taking his time, thinking back on his daily routine. Is there something he’s overlooked?

Surely there are chores that Blue has asked him to do but he has planned to skip those anyway. He’s already swiped a honey cinnamon bar for both breakfast and lunch, joking with Muffet about his tab. He’s made small talk with the usual faces, had his smoke break…What has he missed? It’s like an itch at the back of his neck, insisting that he’s neglected something important.

Perhaps he feels dissatisfied because he couldn’t finish off the cigarette properly before. He lights another, hoping it will smooth away the tension in his chest. Instead it pulls his ponderings back to his previous uncomfortable encounter. He and that fish monster had made quite a mess of those files. Hopefully she won’t have too much trouble resorting all of them. She seemed pretty upset about it, even more so after his rejection of her aid.

 _She said she was a doctor, right? Hope I didn’t offend her, brushing her off like that_.

Maybe they’ll bump into each other again sometime—hopefully with less confusion and chaos. If so, he’ll make an effort to be nicer and see that they leave off on better terms.

Strangely it’s that thought which consoles some of his disquiet as he limps through a vague approximation of his patrol route and then heads for home.

By the time he gets there at his staggered, meandering pace, the throbbing in his side has graduated to a deep, consistent burn—unfortunate confirmation that he is in fact injured. Carrying the wound around for some hours without any acknowledgement or compensation has the rest of his bones sore and irritated.

Now, he muses with great reluctance, there has to be a fuss made about it.

If a normal monster has healing magic equivalent to disinfectant and gauze, Papyrus’ healing magic is like tepid water: not _un_ helpful yet rarely ever helpful _enough_. He’ll need Blue’s help to patch it up completely.

“Good grief!” Sans tuts in concern as Papyrus hikes up his hoodie just enough to reveal the nick in his seventh rib. “What happened, Papy? This doesn’t look good!”

“I’m fi—” he starts, hesitating with a click his teeth. “Well, I _will_ be fine if you lend me a hand. Just took a long trip down a short path.”

Blue’s magic is heavy and warm, so familiar that Papyrus feels like he can just slip right into it like a bath. His brother is methodical in his reparations; by the time he’s done, there probably won’t be much evidence that the damage was ever there. Papyrus closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing as the burn dissipates to a tingle. After an indeterminate time, Blue startles him out of his comfortable haze.

“Whoa! Well, I didn’t expect that. A new soul mark just surfaced here, brother!” Sans brushes a finger against it, probing but not harsh. His interest is obvious; until now, he’s only ever watched his own marks appear firsthand. “Did you feel it?”

The inflow of healing magic has masked most of the sting; Papyrus might not have noticed if he was allowed to doze off. He can’t help but grimace at his soulmate’s poor timing. Letting Blue ogle their lie feels like _gossip_ of some kind but he does his best to keep his voice even and uninterested. “What’s it say?”

“ _No reason_ ,” Sans reads, brow furrowing, “ _just curious. For research_. That’s an odd phrase. What do you suppose that means?”

“I have no idea,” Papyrus admits, taken aback. His soulmate has never lied about something that could give Papyrus much context to their work or hobbies. If his soulmate thinks this excuse is reasonable enough to seem realistic, does that mean they’re known for “research”?

Maybe they’re the brainy sort. He wouldn’t mind that.

Whatever Blue might say next is interrupted by a ping from his phone, one which has his eye sockets pop open in disbelief. “Oh, stars! Alphys just told me that one of her other friends wants to observe my training tomorrow—someone who’s done special work for the queen! Wow! Do you think they might put in a good word for me?”

Papyrus softens. “Once they see how cool you are in action, I’m sure they will.”


	5. Chapter 5

_I’m not ready for this_. Every step Undyne takes toward Alphys’ house feels like a step toward certainty—whether that is certain success or certain doom, she can’t tell. Her soul is performing somersaults in her chest as she double-checks the conversation she and Alphys had last night.

When she gave the excuse that her interest in skeletons was for research purposes, Alphys seemed convinced. She has never been particularly interested in scientific pursuits, so she didn’t probe any further. It’s her following reply that Undyne keeps rereading to make absolutely certain it’s real:

**Alphys**

[4:59 p.m.] Actually I got one who’s a royal guard recruit (sort of?) Coming to my house for his training tomorrow! You can come hang and watch us if you want??

Her soulmate, a royal guardsman? That is decidedly not the impression Undyne got from his posture, mannerisms, outfit, _anything_ —but perhaps that’s precisely why Alphys is training him. Perhaps she’s trying to whip him into shape. Undyne blinks, color filling her cheeks as she’s struck with the image of him in the Guards’ gleaming armor. That would be a sight. Maybe if she remains firmly on the sidelines and he is in his element, it will be easier to seem friendly and make amends.

**Undyne**

[5:01 p.m.] Ok I’ll be there

[5:01 p.m.] Thx

That was when Alphys decided to strike the fear of stars into her:

**Alphys**

[5:02 p.m.] Cool! I’ll let him know!!

_Let him know?_ The wave of panic that swept over Undyne at those words had scrambled her head and her fingers; she couldn’t even type a response. Throughout the night that followed, she had found herself staring at the ceiling, wishing it would swallow her. Now she half-wishes the ground would too.

What exactly has Alphys said? Has she told him who specifically will be coming? Is he already thinking the worst? “Oh, no, Alphys invited the mad doctor to see me again? Better make sure I don’t get in her way!”

No fresh soul marks have appeared today. If he minded her presence, wouldn’t he have lied to Alphys, saying it was alright with him? That seems to be his way.

She barely knows him, she reminds herself with a shaky breath. She shouldn’t be putting thoughts into his head or words in his mouth. The more nervous she gets, the more likely everything will go wrong. She’ll shut up, smile, and observe him at work.

“Hey, you dork!” Alphys crows in greeting, drawing herself up to thoroughly ruffle Undyne’s hair. “Glad you could make it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Undyne chuckles nervously, keeping a death grip on the clipboard she’s brought to maintain appearances. _I can’t afford to miss him twice_.

“Today we’re gonna get into some good, old-fashioned sparring. It should be a doozy! He is pretty strong; we’ll go over all the moves he’s learned so you know what’s up. Just be sure you’re actually watching us show off for you between taking all your notes, okay? We’re about to get started. Sans, hurry up!”

Sans? Is that his name? Not what she expected but not unpleasant! That thought is fleeting. Undyne only has a few moments to be horrified and wish her hair hasn’t been displaced before a beaming skeleton strides into view. She’s not ready! She stiffens, her soul skips a beat and then…it plummets. Her legs melt into jelly at unfamiliar, cheery blue eyelights. It’s not him. Is she disappointed or relieved?

She swallows hard. _Disappointed_.

“Sans, Undyne the royal scientist. Undyne, Sans the skeleton,” Alphys announces. “Though everybody usually just calls him Blue.”

“So named for my magnificent blue attack!” Sans adds, shoulders squared with pride as he extends a hand. “I’m delighted to meet you, ma’am!”

What are the odds that her soulmate is a member of an incredibly rare species and when she seeks an opportunity to see him again, she finds the _wrong_ one? This was meant to be a second chance!

When she eventually registers that he wants to shake her hand, Undyne stutters, forces a hasty smile and takes it. “Uh, yeah! I-I’m glad to meet you too, Blue.”

As soon as it leaves her mouth, she has to bite her inner cheek against a curse of realization. She’s just lied. Wherever her soulmate is right now, he just got marked with a stupid, gauche greeting. She really is making everything worse for him, isn’t she?

It isn’t entirely a loss, she decides weakly as Alphys directs her out of the way. At least observing this skeleton will genuinely contribute to her general familiarity with the species. Maybe data about abilities and attacks will come in handy if…

Maybe, somehow, it will come in handy _when_ she does cross paths with her One again. She’s searching for something that could potentially be life-changing; it’s too important to give up so easily. He deserves better.

She can only pray that it will proceed differently from her other “life-changing” experiments. She wants something to go right for once in her life.

Though her soul is heavy and her head clogged with noise, she’ll do her best to show Blue and Alphys the attention they deserve for giving her their best.

Beyond that, she will hope that the ambiguous third time is the charm.


	6. Chapter 6

Sans is a better judge of character and emotion than people give him credit for. The flash of apprehension that crossed Miss Undyne’s face when he approached her didn’t escape his notice. For that reason he had toned down his enthusiasm and swallowed his questions about her work for the royalty, hoping simple friendliness would put her at ease.

It hasn’t. Even now as he sneaks glances at her between blows to Alphys’ defense, Miss Undyne seems rather downcast. Her head and shoulders are sagging, as they have been since she caught full sight of him. Even her fins seem to droop as she drums her pen against her clipboard.

Does she dislike him for some reason? Sans wonders. How could he have made her uncomfortable already? He’s done nothing but spar with Alphys since they arrived.

Perhaps she simply isn’t aware of how great a specimen he can be for her study! As always, he works hard to prove himself.

As the rounds of battle go on, Undyne _has_ intermittently scribbled some notes on her clipboard, which is a promising sign. Sans wants it to be nothing but praise. His soul flutters at the thought of her taking the chart for the queen’s perusal. Will Queen Toriel be impressed with him and his progress? Might he be escorted into the city and knighted soon? What is their ruler like up close?

“Hey, what’s that about?!” Alphys hollers in reproach as Sans’ next bone pattern swerves and skitters pathetically off course. “Focus!”

Apologetically Blue shakes himself free of his daydream—hopefully Miss Undyne won’t take any note of _that_ slip—and summons a blaster. He’s pleased to see the scientist’s eyes light up in wonder at that, at least. Whatever is troubling her, he’s happy to provide a proper diversion. The air ripples with a blaze of magic and the scent of ozone and Alphys is cheering him on even as she’s forced to lunge out of the way.

He can live up to Miss Undyne’s expectations, he’s sure of it. Why ever would she be disappointed with him?

When Alphys finally lets up for a few minutes so she can cool off, Sans moves next to Undyne to catch his breath. Why not fish for a compliment while he’s here? He mentally swats himself for the unintentional pun; he can already hear Papy snickering in the back of his head so he hurries to speak over it.

“Have I impressed you yet, ma’am? I’m always open to feedback about my patterns!”

“O-Oh, yeah! It all looks good,” Undyne promises distractedly. “They’re all really good. I’d love to examine that blaster of yours up close, in more detail…sometime.”

Her eyes are elsewhere behind her glasses. She’s overlooking the obvious, that she could ask him to summon another now, but Sans sets that aside for the moment.

“Miss Undyne, I don’t mean to be rude or pry into anything I shouldn’t. I can’t say I know you well at all, given that this is our first meeting, but you look like something’s bothering you.”

She flushes, hunching down as if to hide behind her notes. “No, no, there’s nothing—” She bites her lip halfway through the lie and Sans quirks his brow knowingly. Why mark her soulmate unnecessarily when she knows he means well? She gulps and revises. “Sorry. I guess this observation just, um, didn’t go how I thought it would. And…you aren’t really what I expected. I’m not saying you’re bad at this! F-From the looks of it you’re really great at what you do!”

“Thank you, I am indeed!” he agrees with a grin that she doesn’t return. He waits for a beat of silence before coaxing, “But…?”

“I’m sorry. I guess I…thought…” Undyne glances away with a weak shrug, her voice small. “…you’d be…someone taller.”

That is the last thing Blue would have expected her to say; in fact, it catches him so off guard that he can’t help but burst out laughing. “Someone taller?! Oh, gosh! Is there a height requirement for the Guard that I don’t know about? I can strap bones to my feet for stilts if that will win me some credibility!”

“No, no, no,” Undyne squeaks, “I-I just meant—”

“We don’t judge anyone’s size around here!” Alphys warns. “You think being a shorty makes _me_ any less lethal?! I’ll tear your legs off before you think to look down!” Undyne blanches at the mental image.

“Precisely!” Sans agrees, head high as Alphys slings an arm around his shoulders. “Consider the both of us small but deadly!”

“If a tall skeleton’s better for _science_ , you should meet Paps. The guy’s supposed to be Blue’s _little_ brother but he sprang up overnight like a reed!”

“You’ll only get a proper measure of it if he stops being such a hunchback,” Sans sighs in frustration. “Such a bad habit! I keep telling him—”

“Brother?” Undyne echoes, her breath hitching. “You have a brother?”

Pleased that her attention seems properly captured now, Sans nods. “I do! If you have time, I’d be happy to introduce you! His name is Papyrus.”


	7. Chapter 7

His name is Papyrus. Undyne rolls the name around in her mind, a jittery smile tugging at her lips. It’s a nice, eloquent name; like a song, the syllables have a beat that suits his face and the tumbling, sprawling samples of his handwriting. _Papyrus_. She could get used to saying it.

She’s certainly going to get used to hearing it; his brother is all Sans talks about as he leads her through Waterfall toward Snowdin.

“I imagine he’ll be asleep when we arrive. You’ll have to forgive him that; he can never seem to stay alert during the day unless it’s time for a meal or a smoke break. Then his internal clock snaps right to it and there he goes, wandering off. I do my best to keep track of him; I can’t help but be glad he’s slower than most.”

“Papyrus smokes,” Undyne repeats, more to herself than to Blue.

“He does, indeed,” Blue sighs, waving an exasperated hand. “I’ve told him time and time again how awful it is for him, not to mention those around him, but he won’t listen to me anymore. He’s taken it on as some sort of coping mechanism. What he’s coping with, I have no idea. Hey! You’re a doctor, ma’am! Perhaps he’ll listen to your professional advice!”

She nods, only half listening. Papyrus smokes. It’s funny that she couldn’t be happier about that news; it’s the confirmation she needs. The only smoking skeleton she’s ever encountered—he is definitely the One, he has to be! Her stomach is quivering with nerves, even more so than it was before the training observation.

What might Sans say if she blurts the news out now? Will he be happy to know his brother’s soulmate has been found? He seems to be in good cheer about most everything. He would probably welcome her with open arms!

She has to be patient and prepare her words carefully. Papyrus needs to be informed first.

She fights not to shudder against Snowdin’s chill as she follows Blue toward the house. It looks kind and inviting, soft light spilling through the windows. As she takes it in, she realizes with a start that she’ll need to clean her place up if Papyrus wants to come over. Her fins prickle uneagerly at the thought. _One step at a time_.

“Papy! Wake up and come downstairs, you lazybones, we have a guest!” Sans calls out as he opens the door. “She’s—Oh! Well, good, you’re awake already.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus concurs, voice distant. He stands motionless in the middle of the living room, arm hugged to his side, eyes laser-focused on Undyne. Her face fills with heat as she blinks back, reading his calculated, distinct _lack_ of expression.

He knows.

“Well, don’t just dillydally about in the cold, good madam! Wipe your feet and come in,” Blue urges, oblivious to the new uncertainty in the air. He tugs her arm invitingly and she stumbles, hastily kicking her shoes against the mat to recapture some feeling in her legs.

“I…Y-Yes, of course. Sorry.” Her voice cracks.

“Papy, this is Dr. Undyne. She’s the one who came to observe my training session! She’s doing a study of our species so when I told her I had a brother, she wanted an introduction,” Blue declares, none too subtly swiping at a few crumbs that cling to Papyrus’ jacket. Papyrus flinches at his touch, but Blue doesn’t comment. “Undyne, this is my brother, Papyrus!”

“I, um, I think we’ve run into each other before,” she musters. Such a stupid way to phrase it! “Yesterday…?”

“Yeah,” Papyrus repeats, unchanging. There’s a small pause. Second by second it feels like he’s trying to peel away layers of her to peer straight into her soul. He tilts his head. “You’re doin’ a study on skeletons, huh? What for?” Undyne can’t help but notice as he rubs his arm back and forth against his hoodie, soothing the itch. “No big reason, right? You’re just _curious?_ For _research?_ ”

She recognizes that particular phrasing and, to her unease, so does Blue. Did Papyrus show him that lie? How many other lies of hers have been shared with him?

“Brother,” he ventures cautiously, “why are you—?”

“I had no idea where to find you again,” Undyne interrupts, terrified by this blatant admission. Any notion of rehearsing better words has now abandoned her. “So when Alphys said she knew a skeleton, I t-took a chance. I just wanted to tell you…I couldn’t just keep it to myself once I noticed!”

“I know.”

“I-I know you know. But how…Did you extrapolate it from the ‘research’ thing or s-some other…?”

Wordlessly he bears up the arm at his side, the sleeve rolled back to reveal the “ _I’m glad to meet you too, Blue_ ” scrawled down his ulna. Undyne winces as Sans stiffens and rounds on her.

“Wait a moment. That’s exactly what you said to me just earlier when I shook your hand so…” His eye sockets are like saucers, eyelights dazzling as he looks between them. “Dr. Undyne, if it found its way to him—Oh, my _stars_ , I—I can’t believe—Holy heavens! Somehow I can’t even be angry that you lied to me! Papyrus, _look!_ ” He wastes no time lunging to envelop Papyrus in a giddy embrace. “It’s _her!_ We’ve done it! You’ve actually done it! The day’s here, the glorious moment’s finally come! Oh, brother, congratulations! You’ve found your soulmate!”

Undyne can’t breathe as she watches him drape an arm over Sans’ back in return, patting halfheartedly. He has that same false smile pasted to his face. “Heh, not…not really, bro. More like she found me.”

Stomach churning, Undyne curls her hands into the folds of her coat. She’s getting the distinct impression that he didn’t want to be found.


	8. Chapter 8

Sans is ecstatic. Papyrus feels ill. When his brother’s joy is bubbling over and he sets his mind on something, there’s no stopping him. He’s already lugging out the phonebook to spread the good news around town. A found soulmate is a cause for celebration!

Even as he’s seeking numbers, he’s explaining for Papyrus and Undyne’s listening pleasure all of the wonderful preparations he’ll make for a party. He’s distracted for now.

Papyrus sways, nodding subtly toward the relative privacy of the kitchen, and Undyne gulps as she trails after him.

“I’m really sorry,” she whispers once Blue’s voice is further away. “I’m sorry, this was a huge mistake.”

“It’s alri—” He snaps his mouth shut, stifling an exasperated sigh. It’s not quite as easy to lie when the one who pays for it is face to face with him. “It’s just a lot to take in. I wasn’t really expecting…”

“I know.” She ducks her head, hiding behind a curtain of her hair. “It’s a big letdown, isn’t it? You’re stuck with the fish doctor who can’t see where she’s going. I’m nothing like you hoped I’d be.”

“No, no! I didn’t have any judgment or expectation set up for you. I don’t even know you,” he protests. Her face seems to fall farther at that reminder and he wavers. The truth slips free in stops and starts. “I wasn’t really expecting a soulmate, my soulmate to…actually seek me out.” _Why are you still here? How could you want me?_

“Would you rather I didn’t?” She realizes promptly that she doesn’t want an honest answer to that question, so she rushes on. “I was concerned. When I found out you lied to me yesterday a-about being alright, I thought I might have hurt you. I wanted to do something to fix it.”

“Sans patched it already; it’s not a problem anymore. You don’t have to worry.”

She flinches, voice quavering in dismay. “I _did_ hurt you? I’m so sorry! I should’ve run after you, I should’ve done more to help. Ugh, I’m so useless! What kind of first impression is that?!”

“Hey, I didn’t get off on the right foot either,” he points out self-consciously. “Falling over like a sad sack and then ducking out without a goodbye. You caught me on a grungy day—or rather, you _didn’t_ catch me. Heh, I’m still in these old clothes.”

“I don’t mind. I can’t judge either,” she murmurs, eyes trailing down to their similar pairs of scuffed, dirty sneakers. “I t-think you look…really nice.”

Because her gaze is on the tile, she doesn’t notice Papyrus’ cheekbones tinge. He inhales slowly until the color cools, hunching back to shove his hands in his pockets.

Silence crawls by, broken only by the buzz of the overhead light and the distant chatter of Blue on the phone.

Papyrus’ _soulmate_ is here in front of him. He’s never considered what he would do if this day came; he’s never wanted to think about it. It’s a small mercy that her lab coat hides the evidence he’s put on her over the years; he can’t bear to face that right now. The vulnerability in her expression is difficult enough.

“Papyrus—”

“Undyne—”

She stiffens. “Go ahead, sorry.”

His soul plods. At any moment it could plummet through his ribs and shatter on the floor between them. His skull aches under her stare.

“Undyne, I appreciate you checking to make sure I’m okay. It’s nice you cared enough to find me. I know a few people whose soulmates never bothered.” _I wish I was one of them. You deserved to find someone better waiting for you_. “But…”

“You’re really disappointed?”

“It’s not that,” he sighs, apparently surprising her that it isn’t a lie. “You seem sweet. If you’re on good terms with Alphys and my brother—if the _queen_ trusts you—you’ve gotta be pretty cool. Well…” That color in his cheekbones is itching to return. “Cool _and_ pretty. That’s a pleasant surprise.”

“Really?”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re definitely easy on the eye sockets,” he assures, earning a demure shrug. “But _I’m_ not whatever you hoped I’d be. I can’t be. If your soul marks are any indication, I’ve got some… _issues_. More than a few.”

“Everyone does,” she concurs hollowly. He doesn’t know the half of it. “The thing is that issues, um, don’t really scare me. Because you’re right, I’ve known for a long time. I want to help.”

“And it means a lot…but I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.” He huffs softly. “I don’t know _how_ to share yet. You pity me, doc, I know, and with this soul thing you probably think it’s gotta be your job to _heal_ me, right? But it isn’t. You don’t have to feel like you’re on the hook; I’m not worth the effort.”

“Y-You think that’s the only reason I came? Because I feel obligated?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “I mean, why else would you be here? Look at me. Aren’t you just being polite?”

Her hesitation, he thinks, speaks volumes.

“Eventually, if I figure out what I want to say and you’re still willing to listen…maybe we can try something out then. But I don’t want to rush into anything complicated.”

When he notices the tears slipping past her defenses, it feels like he’s just been kicked in the teeth. After a few moments she heaves an unsteady breath, scrubbing the heels of her hands roughly over her face.

“It’s fine.”

His bones sting.

“That’s okay.”

His bones sting.

“Not a problem.”

His bones sting. When she realizes what she’s doing, she rebukes herself with a smack to the forehead.

“Sorry! I, um…I shouldn’t make such a big deal about this. I understand, really. Too much on your plate. Like I said, I can’t judge. So…I guess…I’m on Undernet, if you ever want to…message me about anything? Or come visit when you think you’re up for it. _If_ you—” Shaking her head, she tugs off her glasses to wipe them. “Please, come sometime. I mean it. I’d love to have you. A-And…well, I’ve waited for you this long! I can wait a little longer. I’m not going anywhere. Heh. I never do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Couldn't you start with being friends, Pap? Would that be so hard?


	9. Chapter 9

“Papyrus, I don’t understand! Why did you let her leave?!” Sans laments, arms flailing out in dismay and confusion. “She was crying when she left! Don’t think I didn’t notice just because she was in a hurry for the door! Did you overlook that somehow? Why didn’t you console her? What happened? What did you say?”

“It doesn’t mat—” He growls, pinching the bridge of his nasal bone as he twists the words into their proper shape. “It’s complicated, okay? This all came out of nowhere and I had to tell her upfront that I’m really not ready right now.”

“Not ready? What is that supposed to mean? In what sense?! That phrase itself seems to be missing the _common_ sense!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little _rattled_ at the moment, bro! I need some time to myself to process all of this!”

Blue sputters helplessly. “You’ve had time to yourself your entire life and so has she! Your souls have been waiting for each other since birth; you were made for each other, to explore a life you can live as a team! She’s your other half! Aren’t you as ready for that companionship as you’ll ever be?”

“We don’t even know each other.”

“But you could! You think all of the soulmates in the Underground, growing old together to this day, have never had their uncomfortable moments? Their spats? I’m sure they’ve all said hurtful things that they didn’t mean but they have forgiven in the end!” Darting aside, Sans grabs for the door handle, letting a gust of icy air pour into the room. “Go on, please! Run after her, try to make amends! Tell her that you’re sorry for whatever you said!”

“I’m _not_.”

“Papyrus!”

“I meant what I said,” he insists, hugging himself against the new cold and avoiding Sans’ astonished gaze. “She’s not actually interested in me; she just felt bad.”

“How can you know that for sure? You just told me yourself that you hardly know her! Did she say that in no uncertain terms? ‘I only came to see you out of guilt’? Did she say that?”

“She didn’t have to.”

“You didn’t see her on our journey here! I’ve known her a good two hours longer than you have so I’m the one who can speak on the matter properly! She was _zealous_ to meet you!” Sans protests. “The mention of you was the first thing to lift her spirits!”

Blue has to be imagining things; he’s looking back through the lenses of a matchmaker. _She can’t be after me. She can’t even like me; I don’t even like me_. “Looks like it didn’t take long for me to change that,” Papyrus mumbles.

“Then change it back; I know you can! The door is right here! _Go!_ ” When Papyrus doesn’t move, Blue fumes incredulously. “This—This isn’t how it’s meant to happen at all! Papyrus, don’t you understand that this is meant to be a happy thing?!”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’ve never been much good at happiness.”

“What are you talking about? Your life has never been better! Good food, a comfortable home, an income. You have all you need except her!” Letting his shoulders slump, he huffs impatiently. “Yes, of course, there could be _some_ areas of improvement. You could try to get out of bed in better time and shape up when it comes to your hygiene and try to break that unpleasant smoking habit. If she did come only out of obligation, perhaps those things would have swayed her in better favor! Now instead you’re set on _sabotaging_ yourself and your—”

That is the tipping point. “Stop it, Sans, please, just shut up! Can you stop _nagging_ me for once?! Why do you have to try and micromanage my entire life?! I’m not a baby bones anymore! You can never just let me make my own decisions and live with them; you always have to swoop in and _fix_ me!” he barks, eyelights flaming amber as he elbows past him to slam the door back into its frame. His voice shrills mockingly. “‘Good grief! Shut the door behind you, brother, you’re letting a draft in!’”

Blue isn’t cowed by his waspish behavior; he matches his volume easily, snatching at his sleeve to hold him down on the spot. “Oh, of course, how could I be so foolish? Forgive me, Papyrus! I’m _so sorry_ that I have some desire to see you improve yourself and have a future with someone who completes you! Is that so unrealistic of me to expect?!”

“Why am I set to _your_ expectations? It isn’t even any of your business! S’not like it’s your soulmate who showed up outta nowhere!”

“You’re right about that! Perhaps Undyne isn’t the one who’s burdened by the obligation! This isn’t about freeing _her_ from the commitment! You’re only thinking about what’s easiest for you! Any sort of attachment would take _work_ , wouldn’t it, and we all know you can’t be bothered with that! If it was _my_ soulmate who came along, I would jump at the chance to be with them! I would look past any of my own irrational doubts and think about _their_ feelings first! I would actually put in the effort and common decency to make them feel _welcome_ and let them know they’re wanted!”

“Yeah, sure, and suffocate ’em in the process! There’s not a sane monster out there who’d ever want you!”

The wind whimpers against the window panes.

Sans’ eye sockets are empty as he pries away from Papyrus’ arm. Papyrus’ throat locks up. Those words aren’t intended for Sans at all; they’re meant for himself alone, ingrained into his self-image. Sans is just the nearest face he has to scream them at but he’s the one person who was _never_ supposed to hear them.

“Sans, I didn’t mean—”

“I’ll be in my room,” he mutters. He doesn’t even sound angry now, only hushed and withdrawn, which Papyrus knows is a hundred times worse. “I’d rather not be disturbed for a while.”

“Sans…” Papyrus’ thoughts and vision swim as he watches him take the stairs. It’s the first time he can recall hearing Blue’s door lock after it slips shut.

Papyrus stands shivering in the living room, the emptiness draping over him. There’s no soulmate, no brother, no one offering their help. At last he’s by himself, his multitude of burdens entirely his own.

Is that not what he asked for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that? Finally getting some honesty out on the table but in the not-great way ^^" 
> 
> Papyrus has always envied Blue in a way - he's the happier, healthier social butterfly who knows exactly what he wants and always seems to get it. Since he was young Pap has wished he could be more like him, but heap some depression on top of that and that wish only feeds into the idea that he can never be good enough. In Blue's attempts to help him better himself, it can come across as nothing but belittlement, reminding him of his failures. They both have things they need to work on.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter to wrap things up. Beware the many scene breaks XD

It’s almost impossible for Undyne to resist blaming herself. _Almost_. Every hour of every day that slogs by, she has to bury her head in her hands, breathe deeply and remind herself. Papyrus was adamant that it’s about him, not her. He needs space to get himself in order. This isn’t the end of the world. He hasn’t rejected her permanently. He’ll seek her out when he thinks he’s ready.

“It’s a ‘not now,’” she whispers in the vast, yawning loneliness of her lab, “not a ‘never.’”

But this “not now” feels like forever.

* * *

Papyrus’ legs have the consistency of toothpicks as he shuffles to sit across from Sans and Muffet. Muffet’s eyes are curious and concerned, Sans’ wary. Apologies have been made between them, yes, but the sting has yet to entirely fade.

Once he’s firmly rooted in his seat, that’s it. No escape. The doors and windows are closed against the outside but he has never felt more exposed. Everything in his marrow screams at him to bolt, as it always does. A sleepless night and a lump in his throat make his words heavy.

“I’m sorry. This is, uh, gonna be pretty hard on all three of us. Maybe if I told you a long time ago, it could’ve been easier…but probably not. I thought since I got by on my own this long, I could just keep it on the down-low forever, heh. ’Cept now it’s changed. I slipped, Sans, I started taking it out on you…and Undyne. I guess I’ve been taking it out on her all my life without thinking about it. Probably be a good idea for me to stop that. So…I got a confession to make.”

* * *

Undyne hasn’t dared to message him even though she’s finally stumbled across his Undernet profile. Would sending a mere friend request be seen as intruding or pushing? She doesn’t want to risk it. Instead she’ll settle for staring at his profile picture. It’s the only image she has of him smiling genuinely, his eye sockets warm and soft; she can’t help but wonder about the circumstances.

Will she ever be able to make him smile like that? Will he ever let her?

* * *

Papyrus suppresses the urge to vomit. He can’t bring himself to lift his head under the weight of their stares. His hands are shaking, bunched tightly in his pockets, and his soul beat seems to drag a second behind the hand on the clock.

“…Depression?” Sans echoes faintly, as if he needs to hear the word again to believe it’s real.

“As long as I can remember.”

* * *

Maybe this is her punishment, her darkest notions point out. For all of the ways she’s harmed others, for all of her own lies marking his body, she deserves to live this way: so close yet so, so far from her happiness. Papyrus is clever. He is her other half. Maybe he’s seen straight through her part of their shared soul. Maybe he deduced that she was a danger the very moment she set foot in his home. Maybe she deserves to have completion dangled in front of her and then ripped from her grasp.

 _No_.

Sooner or later she’ll find a way to fix it. Sooner or later her soulmate will want her. She has to bury herself in her work in the meantime. She’s been independent of him this long; she can continue.

* * *

“Undyne seems nice. I have no idea what she could bring to my life. It’d probably be good but…” As icy self-loathing curls down his spine, Papyrus’ resolve threatens to give out. “Everything in me tells me that I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve anyone _really_ caring about me. Better to just…nudge everybody in the right direction: whatever direction I’m not, so nobody has to bother with somethin’ broken.”

“Oh, sweetling,” Muffet whispers.

* * *

When Alphys inevitably finds out what has gone on among her friends, she naturally reacts in fiery rage. Surprisingly it does Undyne some good to hear her friend rant and rail on her behalf.

“Just give me the word and I’ll drag that idiot to the lab by the coccyx!” she urges fiercely, tail lashing against the floor. “Then I’ll barricade all your doors and windows and he’ll have no choice but to set himself straight with you then and there! If he takes one of his stupid shortcuts, I’ll be waiting to haul him right back!”

“Not that I wouldn’t love to see that,” Undyne sighs with a watery smile, “but I-I don’t think this is something that can be fixed in one sitting.”

“Bah! You say that ’cause you’re his lover, not a fighter.” Despite herself she can’t help but chortle at the purple hue in Undyne’s face.

“I-I’m—We’re _not_ —!” she wheezes.

“Not _yet_ , doc. Not just yet!”

* * *

“S’not just all the garbage in my head,” Papyrus chokes out before cowardice can find a foothold. “I don’t—didn’t—I-I don’t want her around you two ’cause if you see something that you’re not meant to see, you’ll…know the truth.”

Sans is aghast. “Brother, what truth could possibly be so horrible that you can’t share it with us?”

* * *

Time continues to wax and wane. Undyne checks her calendar and her clock each, twice more, before returning her attention to the mirror, running tentative hands down her abdomen and thighs. A bittersweet ache fills her chest at the sight.

 _Pretty_ , Papyrus called her, and meant it. Nobody else has said that of her. She’s never once thought of herself that way.

* * *

“I hate everything about me, everything’s wrong, I never feel okay, I never wanna get out of bed, I’ll just disappoint everyone, I’m sorry, I can never be happy again, I don’t know how, I c-can _never_ , I _never_ —”

The words are broken and incoherent through gasping sobs; Papyrus can barely translate them himself but Sans’ hand is squeezing his own and Muffet’s many arms are wrapped around him so tightly, he doesn’t know if she’ll ever let go.

She _won’t_ let go, she swears to herself, sharing an agonized glance with Sans over Papyrus’ shaking shoulder.

* * *

There has been no change. There are no new markings of any kind. Undyne has sensed the itch every so often, as if he is fighting the instinct, but whenever she hurries to check her skin, she finds the distorted mark fading back out of view. Her soul lifts.

He’s self-correcting, making good on his word. He’s learning how to share.

* * *

“Papyrus! Hurry it along, would you, or your breakfast will be—” Blue grabs at his neckerchief as if to physically stall the reproach in his throat. When he leans on the doorframe and again addresses the tangled lump of worn blankets, he’s apologetic. “Would you like a tray table for it in here?”

“…I guess.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll have it up in just a minute, alright?”

“…Thanks.”

* * *

Papyrus hasn’t told a lie in so many days; he’s working so hard at it. How Undyne longs to celebrate that with him! How she wishes she could be that listening ear he trusts. When will he give her a chance to know the real him?

* * *

“You’re not useless,” Sans soothes in a whisper, strumming a careful hand down Papyrus’ back. “You’re not worthless. You’re not broken.”

“…Slept in. Made you cover for me again. Stupid.”

“Shh, none of that talk. You’re not stupid, Papy.” His eye sockets narrow at the distrustful silence. “Say it, brother. Come on. Tell me the truth.”

“Fine, m’not stupid.”

“Thank you. Now I’ve been thinking, perhaps we discuss a schedule change with Alphys. If an hour or two is taken off your patrol, it will be easier for you to endure without falling asleep, which means I’ll be less inclined to pester you. A win-win, eh?”

“…Y’don’t pester, most of the time. Jus’ lookin’ out for me.”

* * *

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“The same way you told us: openly, honestly, and penitently,” Sans states, wrapping Papyrus’ fingers more firmly around his phone. “Reach out to her.”

“I don’t deserve a second chance.”

“But she’s willing to give it, isn’t she? She told you she would wait. You can _earn_ a chance by letting her in. Don’t make her wait any longer.” Papyrus swallows. Sighing deeply, Sans drops a hand to his knee. “She wants to _help_ you, just as you suspected, but the satisfaction of ‘curing’ a patient isn’t her only motivation. I try to help you every day, if not _untactfully_ sometimes, because I _love_ you, brother. A genuine desire to help comes out of a genuine care. Now that you’ve brought yourself to acknowledge your challenges, would getting help to change them really be so bad?”

“…What if there’s nothing she can do?”

“She can. There’s a reason you are connected—and let’s not forget that _you_ are intended to complete _her_ too. There are ways you can help her that you don’t know yet. You need each other. Don’t you want to discover all the reasons why? Your souls are mysteries! Work together to solve them.”

* * *

For the first time in ages, Undyne feels the weight of a boulder lift from her chest. Her eyes burn with relief, gratitude and _hope_ as she clicks open the new message on her feed. He’s given her four wonderful, glorious words. The blue light of her screen seems overwhelming against the darkness.

**Lazybones95**

[1:43 a.m.] Hey. Can we talk?

* * *

“So I—I think that’s about it!” Undyne concludes shyly, gesturing out before letting her arms fall to her sides. “This is, um, where the magic happens.”

“It’s a nice place you’ve got,” Papyrus concurs, his grin twitching. “Real clean, real pro- _fish_ -ional.”

“Wow, you did _not_ just say that! Don’t be cringe!” she exclaims, though Papyrus’ laugh at his own joke is rather infectious.

As the moment passes, so too does the humor, however, as his attention is drawn to another door tucked in the corner. “Is the bathroom part of the tour? I’ll bet even that is jazzed up, huh?” he questions, startled when Undyne makes a bold move to hug his arm.

“Oh, don’t bother!” She giggles sheepishly. “Nothing much to see there. Besides, I’m already starving. Aren’t you? We can go check the fridge for…well, noodles! I think all I’ve got is noodles.”

He tuts agreeably. “Imagine the pasta-bilities.”

“I’m going to ignore that one. Let’s see what we can find!”

“Okay. Sure.” Papyrus doesn’t resist as Undyne lures him back toward the common area. Perhaps it’s her relief at his compliance or her intent on their destination, but she doesn’t glance back to see him peering grimly down at his opposite arm. He can sense it prickling under the sleeve.

 _Nothing much to see there_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now why would Undyne lie about that, knowing full well that it would end up on his body? Maybe she wants to get something off her chest, but she’s scared to have that conversation upfront. Maybe she’s hoping he’ll be nosy enough to start digging.
> 
> Anyway! Thank you so much for your support and lovely comments on this story, they were a pleasant surprise! It's a miracle that I had the inspiration to finish a multichapter story in _one week_ , that literally never happens XD As for where I'll go from here, I might start exploring Blue's relationship with his soulmate, or maybe Alphys will find one where she doesn't expect. Hopefully I'll see you then!
> 
> See [here](https://septic-skele.tumblr.com/image/641993892729847808) for an art piece I made to supplement the story <3


End file.
